Safe In Your Arms
by EddieBlood
Summary: Your name is KARKAT VANTAS and you really could use a few friends. This is a golden chance you have here, Vantas. Take it. Do it. ((Rating may change. AU. Redrom DaveKat.))
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

You sit alone at a bar, waiting for your drink to come so that you can drown your sorrows. The bar is polished neatly, and you find yourself staring down at your own reflection in it. You glare at yourself, baring your fangs. Earth life has made you even more miserable. Despite the fact that humans and trolls constantly mingle, and even get into relationships - although they're too dumb to understand the other three quadrants - you are alone. Your already minimal amount of friends either stayed on Alternia or made new, better friends. Depressing, self-destructive thoughts swim around the back of your mind, but you're too good to let them all come forward.

A martini glass is placed in front of you, and you look away from your damn face. You've decided to get a human drink mixed with an Alternian one. You take a sip, the burn of alcohol filling your stomach and the sweet taste of strawberry covering your taste buds. You shiver a little. It's a bit less strong than last time, or maybe you're just getting used to it. Either way, it's powerful. You take another sip as a man sits next to you. He smells strongly of cologne and hair gel. This overrides the amazing taste of strawberry, and causes you to set down your drink and look at him in disgust.

He looks back at you, a smug smile on his face. He's a troll as well, with sharp teeth and violet eyes. You don't even care about your candy red ones anymore; no one gives a rats ass about blood on Earth. That was actually your primary reason for moving here, not that you'd admit it openly.

"Hey there sweet thing." The pungent smelling male says. His voice is almost as greasy as his hair, and his Italian accent almost makes you laugh.

You do not actually laugh. You give him an annoyed look. In a flat voice, you respond, "What the fuck do you want."

"Whoa, no need to be harsh, chief. Was just sayin' hello." He throws his hands up as he says this, trying to seem casual. _What a douche._

"Hello." You don't think you like this man very much.

"You look a little bit young to be in a place like this." He leans slightly closer to you. His drink arrives and he takes a big swig of it.

You shift slightly. You had been using a fake ID for nearly a sweep. No one ever questioned it here, though. This hole-in-the-wall shitty bar would probably give alcohol to a grub if it had an ID. With less confidence than usual, you state that you're eleven sweeps, even though you are only nine. The man can probably tell you've just lied, but he simply shrugs.

He edges closer to you. "Got a name?"

"Do you?" You narrow your eyes at him.

"Cronus. Cronus Ampora." He smiles again, and takes another sip of his drink. "Your turn, babe."

You wrinkle your nose and tug at the hem of your sweater, plucking a loose string. "Karkat." You say this roughly. You don't enjoy talking to strange men at bars. Certainly not ones who call you "babe."

He pulls a human cigarette from his back pocket and sticks it in his mouth. He leaves it unlit. You find this strange. You've seen humans using them the right way. You turn back to your drink, hoping he's done with you. You take a bigger sip, wanting to finish and get out. He chugs his drink and promptly orders a second one.

"So what brings a pretty thing like you out to this crappy ol' place?" He's talking to you again. _Why._ His words are starting to slur just slightly. You decide you really don't like him.

"Cheap alcohol." _Go away. Please go away._

"I see." _Dammit._ "You're still pretty young though, ain't ya? Why ya drinkin' already?" He's prying. His next drink comes, and you notice that it is considerably larger than the first one.

"That's none of your fucking concern, Ampora." You continue staring at your glass. The sugars are starting to do their thing, and so is the alcohol. Stuff seems a bit fuzzy. You still hate this man.

"Please, please. Call me Cronus if we're gonna use our names here." He's twirling the cigarette with two fingers now. "An' I'm just curious, don't gotta get all snappy with me." You tilt your head, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. He's got a dumb grin on his face. You would love to hit him, but he could probably hit back twice as hard. He's a lot bigger than you. As if he could tell you were thinking about striking, he pulls off his leather coat and hangs it over the back of the chair. His muscles are far bigger than yours could ever be. He notices you looking at them and nonchalantly flexes.

"I'm not checking you out, you pretentious asshole." You sneer. _The nerve of this guy._

"Why ya gotta be like that, Karkat? You only just met me. Are ya always like this towards strangers?" He pouts.

"I'm only 'like this' to people who start hitting on me within six fucking seconds of meeting me. Are you seriously so god damn desperate that you'll philander around with anyone who passes by? That's pretty fucking sad. I mean, what the fuck do you think you're doing? Who the hell even are you?" Your voice raises slightly with each word. Your friends didn't nickname you shouty for nothing.

"Alright, alright, calm down. Don't make a scene here, you'll attract unwanted attention." He grumbles, taking yet another large swig of his beverage.

You grunt, and then it goes silent for a while. Cronus finishes off his drink again and calls for a refill. You're nearly done with your first. A small puddle of the pink tinted liquid shimmers at the bottom of the glass. Obviously you're going to want more. You usually spend hours here with your thoughts and drinks. But this fucking son of a bitch won't leave.

"So you're here by yourself, are ya?"

_**FUCK.**_

"Yes. I am."

"Kinda dangerous, don't ya think?" His words are even more slurred. He's very close to you. When the fuck did he get this close. Your heart pumps faster and you feel your face turn a bit red. _Go away go away go away go away._

"No." You almost squeak, your voice cracking. Fucking hell you are nervous.

Cronus puts a hand on your leg and you try to wiggle out of the way. He grips it tighter. His yellow nails are digging into your jeans. "A gorgeous face like yours shouldn't go home alone in the dark." He has an idiotic grin on his face again. His hand moves further up your thigh.

You can't breathe, or say anything. You never learned what to do in this kind of situation. Never had you even considered that this might happen. His hand is very hot, and he's way too close. You shut your eyes, petrified.

A chair scrapes up next to yours. Oh god you're going to die. This asshole is going to get what he wants. And then kill you like the lowblood scum you think you are. An arm comes around you. "Hey babe! There you are!"

That was not Cronus's drunken voice. You've never heard this voice. You open your eyes. A different man, a human man, has his arm around you. Cronus looks at the human as well. "Thought ya said ya were alone here." He drawls, pulling back. His hand drops lamely to his side.

"Well he ain't alone anymore." The human replies. He has a light Texan accent. You stare at him. He might be looking at you, but his eyes are shielded by black aviators. "I'm his boyfriend, thank you very much." Your mouth drops, but you quickly close it. This guy's trying to help. Of course. "We've talked about the drinking, sugar. You've gotta come home now."

You are still slightly dumbstruck. Who the fuck is this guy? He could be just as creepy for all you know. But... He isn't intoxicated. "R-right. Sorry let me just... Pay." You pull some human money out of your pocket and toss it on the bar, then you stand. You're slightly tipsy, and the man with the sunglasses holds you up.

"Later." He waves at Cronus and hurries you away from the bar. You stumble over your own feet. His arm remains around you, clutching your shoulder. The two of you exit the shady place and step into the street. It's dimly lit and very cold. He walks you over to a metal bench and sits beside you.

"You ok there dude?" He questions, probably looking at you. You can't really tell.

"Yeah. I suppose I should thank you." You mutter, rubbing your eyes. You refuse to acknowledge the tears that were almost there.

"Hey it's no problem man. Glad to help. The name's Dave, by the way. Dave Strider." He crosses his legs. You notice that his shoes are bright red.

You nod, still dazed. "Well uh. Thank you, Strider."

"Yeah sure. You should probably go home now."

You hesitate. He's going to want to help you. You're obviously in no condition to walk back on your own. He seems ok enough. Certainly better than that troll. You feel very violated and you do not want to have that happen ever again. "I assume you're going to walk me there." You say, sounding disgruntled.

"If y'all will let me yeah I'd like to. I mean, wouldn't want anything else to happen to you." He responds, frowning slightly. "That guy was really fucking creepy, y'know. Everyone in that bar is sketchy as fuck."

"You were in there too." You say. "Why should I trust you?"

"I just saved you from a guy who probably intended to fuck you, that's why. You don't need to trust me but hey if something else happens you'll be thinking 'fuck I sure do wish that handsome blonde fellow had walked me home.'" He doesn't breathe once during this. You do not hate this guy, but he's quite talkative.

"Alright, fine, Strider. Carry me home bridal style for all the fucks I give at this point." You attempt to get on your feet and fall back down immediately, landing on the human's lap.

"I think I might just do that." He lifts you easily as he stands. You're still pretty tiny, even though you're close to adulthood. You cross your arms and glare up at him. Infuriating, but yet you feel safe.

"Where do you live then?" He asks after remaining still for a solid minute.

"Oh, uh, right." You give him your address and he starts walking.

"Didn't catch your name." He says, attempting to make conversation. As if things weren't already terribly awkward with him holding you.

"Karkat Vantas." You look up at him. "Why the hell do you have shades on? It's almost midnight."

"Why's an underage troll out drinking at a crappy bar with cheap alcohol?" He responds without missing a beat.

"Why's an underage human doing the same thing?"

"Why don't you mind your damn business? And I hadn't drunk anything yet. I was only in there for five minutes before I saw you getting felt up and decided to help." He adds. "If we're gonna get into the deep questions at least attempt to be my friend first."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" You question, kind of wanting to be Dave's friend. He seems cool. But also kinda douchey.

"Well I live two blocks down from you." He replies, turning on to your street. You just say oh. He says yeah. Then no one says anything as he walks up the street. He sets you down on the step in front of your apartment building. He rolls up your sleeve and pulls out a sharpie, then scribbles his phone number on your arm. You don't even care.

"Text me if you feel like it. Stay safe, Vantas."

"Thank you." You say meekly. You open the front door. "No one has ever done such a nice thing for me before, actually. Not even people I know. So I really do mean it when I say thank you, Dave Strider. I think-" You turn to look at him, but he's vanished. "Oh. Well that's great. Fucking talking to myself again. Thought I got over that." You sigh and walk up to your room, the door shutting heavily behind you.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

You are suddenly Dave Strider. Only for like a minute though. You have heard what Karkat was saying, but you ran when he started to turn around. You hate emotional moments. Good thing you're a ninja. You want to go back to the bar, but surely that creepy troll is still there. And what would he say if you showed up there by yourself? Something stupid, probably. You suppose you could "borrow" some beer from your Bro. You dash back to your apartment, nothing more than a shadowy blur to anyone watching.

Now you are Karkat again. You are laying on the floor of your respriteblock. Your recuperacoon beckons to you, the warm sopor slime steaming in the cold atmosphere. But you do not want to get in. You want to process what just happened. You always mull things over for far too long. Then again, this could have been one of the worst things ever. Cronus could have done some serious damage to you. Much as you hate it, you're not very big at all. Nearly anyone could overpower you. Thank whatever god there is for that human male. You will certainly call him. Eventually.

For now, though, you will lay on your back and stare at the ceiling. It's moldy and disgusting. Green fuzz is trailing along in ugly blotches all over the place. There's a foot long crack that occasionally drips. You are obviously not doing very well financially. You have no need to attend human school; it would be purely for the social aspect. You work in a bookstore, making what you would call an ok amount of money. However, you spend about 85% of it paying for this dump, 5% on things required for your survival - such as food and clothes, and the rest is blown away to feed your alcohol addiction. You realize this is bad but you kind of don't give a fuck.

A loud bang makes you bolt upright, and your heart picks up its pace for a second. You are accustomed to loud noises, as you live in a city where things are constantly happening. But never this late (or early). It didn't sound like the dropping of something metal or the slamming of a door. Most likely, it was a gunshot.

Although the Alternian settlement on Earth was peaceful, and even welcomed by many, a good portion of the population hates it. There are reports of fights with humans almost daily, and the death rate of both races has been slowly increasing. What you just heard now was mostly likely a gunshot. Who even cares what species died or who did it? You got inside in time and you are safe. The killings rarely occur in broad daylight. Only once can you remember being called alien scum. A soda can was thrown at your head and you were told to go back to hell. You don't think about this memory much.

Since you're already half up now, you decide you'll get in your recuperacoon. You push yourself into a standing position slowly and with much caution. You're still kind of drunk. You pull off your sweater and fold it. It gets placed in its usual location, a chair in the corner. You kick off your sneakers next to the chair, throw your socks in a hamper, and tug off your pants. These also get placed on the chair. All your clothes are the same, so nobody notices when you reuse something anyways. Leaving your stupid crab boxers on, you lumber over to the recuperacoon and get in.

_ What? Yes, you said crab boxers. They were a gift. Shut up. They're adorable._

You sink down to the bottom of the sopor slime, shutting your eyes. It's been a very long and stressful day. You do not want to think about it anymore, though. You feel relaxed in here, and you drift into oblivion after no more than three minutes. It only feels like moments later that obnoxious beeping penetrates your ears and you groan into the slime. Some gets in your mouth, and you force yourself to sit up and stick your head out, sputtering. _Gross._ You climb out of your slimy heaven and stumble over to the source of the beeping. You keep the alarm clock on the highest volume on the other side of the room in hopes that it will continue to motivate you to get up.

You don't even need to wake up early, it's exactly nine in the morning. You got plenty of rest, but you feel like shit anyways. Typical. You slam your fist down in the off button, your breathing heavy. The noise stops and you sigh. No matter what time it is, it will always be too early for that damn beeping sound. You look down to find yourself coated in a layer of the thick green slime. This is also typical. And disgusting. You shiver. The stuff gets cold once it's out of the recuperacoon. It needs to be cleaned off, which is a rather annoying process.

The bathroom is in the same condition as the rest of your home. Which is incredibly shitty. You smother a spider with a piece of toilet paper and flush it away. You then remove your slime-soaked adorable crab boxers and enter the shower. It sputters on after a great deal of whining and hissing. The water smells of sulfur. Stupid cheap ass building, you think as you begin scrubbing the sopor off of your body. You don't keep track of how long this takes, but it's probably a while. You wash it out of your hair with some dollar store brand shampoo.

You're nearly done when you realize there is a huge black smudge on your arm. _What the fuck? Wait... Oh great, you fucking idiot._ You washed off his goddamn phone number. You had actually planned on calling him. _Fuck fuck fuck_. You sigh. Maybe you'll see him again anyways. After all, he did say he only lives two blocks down.

After the agonizing clean-up, you get on your clothes and get the hell out of your respriteblock. You rarely eat breakfast and today is no exception. You power walk out of your neighborhood and make a left. The bookstore isn't far from your place of living, but you hurry there anyways. It's very cold today, and the sun is hidden behind the gray clouds. With your luck, it'll be storming by the end of the work day.

You reach your destination and get the fuck in there. You can barely feel your hands. You dismiss your coworker, Rose, from her place at the front desk. This store is open twenty-four hours a day. No one knows why. Rose takes one half, you take the other. You both go from ten to ten.

She takes one look at you before standing and shutting her book. "Stop drinking, Karkat." She walks around the counter, brushing past you lightly.

"Says you, miss 'Come-To-Work-Drunk Lalonde." You grunt, replacing her place on the stool behind the desk. You flip open your own book and pretend to read it.

"I stopped, at least. It was barely even a year. You've been at this for, what, three 'sweeps'?" She leans over the table, giving you a disappointed look.

"It doesn't fucking matter, take your tips and get the hell out, Rose."

She sighs, pulling back and dumping the tip jar's contents into a velvet bag. "See you in twelve hours, Karkles."

As she leaves, you jump up and shout, "Don't fucking call me that you bitchy nooklicker!"

"Be quiet, you're in a bookstore!"

You growl, sinking back down onto the stool. You look down at your book and attempt to find your place. This novel is really quite interesting. You're nearly done, and will explain it as soon as you know how it ends. It's a human novel, but somehow it manages to touch on three quadrants. Kismesism is never mentioned in human novels, you notice. They call it weird and even abusive, but you think they're just ignorant. Anyways, you want to finish this book. You pick it up and begin, mumbling some words to yourself every now and then.

A few people come and go over the next few hours, which causes several disruptions of your reading as they check out or get lost in the mountains of books. Your stomach has begun begging for food by the time you have less than ten pages left. Once you complete the book, you'll go buy a cheap sandwich or something. Six pages left now. Someone enters the shop and you almost groan audibly, but you have to be polite to customers. You're on the last page when they place a book on the counter and state they're ready to buy.

Your annoyance gets the better of you, and you glare at them. Then your eyes widen. It's... It's him. It's Strider. "What the fuck are you doing here?" You ask, shutting your book, your thumb still on the last page.

"Uh, I seem to be buying this book." He frowns at you, looking equally confused. "Is that a problem? I could come back later when-"

"No, shut up you ignorant prick. Do you not recognize me?" You ask, not really giving a shit about the whole "be nice to customers" thing anymore.

"Yeah, hi Karkat Vantas. I'd like to purchase this book. I've been coming here once a month to get a new book for like two years." He's getting slightly impatient, his arms crossing as he looks down at you. At least, you think that's what he's doing. _Why is he still wearing those glasses?_ "Vantas, I don't have all day. I have like half an hour before my next class."

You growl and check out his book. It's a science fiction novel, and it's pretty heavy. You tell him that it's twelve dollars and sixty-two cents. He gives you exact change and says thank you, then starts to leave.

"Wait, Strider, where are you going?" You realize this sounds a bit creepy.

"Lunch. Pizza, probably." His hand is on the door.

Now is your chance. You could use a friend. "I'm coming with you." You say, rather than asking if you could.

"Uh, alright, whatever, hurry it up then." He's looking at you funny.

You pull out a piece of paper and quickly scribble "back in twenty minutes" on it. You stand up, still holding your book - you're going to finish it while walking if you have to - and shoo him out. You stick the sign on the door, lock it, and stand beside him.

He shrugs and begins walking down the sidewalk. You walk next to him, the bitter cold biting at your face. You should have worn a jacket today. Strider has on a warm-looking hoodie. Still, he walks with his shoulders hunched over and the hood up. He doesn't talk until you both enter some commercial pizza place. He pulls off his hood and shakes his head, blonde hair floating around. You shiver, the sudden warmth enveloping you.

Both of you go to the counter and order some pizza slices. Dave picks a booth seat, and you slide in across from him. He rests his head in the palm of his hands, looking at you. You have set your book down and you are reading the last page. You are literally on the last senten - "Why'd you wanna follow me here if you didn't have anything to say to me?"

You hold up one finger, and you hear Dave grunt in annoyance. You quickly read the sentence and shut the book. You can talk about it later. You set it to the side. "I've been trying to finish that book for ages." You mutter.

"Congrats on your ability to read." He replies, now tapping his finger on the table. His nails are bitten down and his hands are dry. "So what's up with you? You gonna buy me lunch 'cause I saved you?"

"What? Fuck no. I mean - no. Thanks for that, though." You're looking everywhere except his shades. "I've come to the conclusion that I could use a friend, and since you so graciously offered-"

"I gave you my phone number, meaning for you to text me if you needed to or whatever." He interjects.

You blink a few times. "I accidentally washed it off in the shower this morning, and I don't even have a cellphone."

"Sucks. Got a pesterchum, then?"

"Trollian, but it's the same thing. Here," you write your tag on and napkin and hand it to him. He folds it and puts it in his pocket. "But, seriously, Strider. I don't want to get into details but I have no fucking friends here."

"What about Rose?" He asks.

"That doesn't count at all, I just see her for like ten minutes - wait how the fuck do you know her?"

"She's my cousin." He seems rather disinterested in the conversation. You just say oh, and that's cool. It's awkwardly quiet until the food comes. He immediately starts chowing down. You've avoided getting this for sweeps. It never looked appealing to you. What was so great about cheesey bread?

You watch him eating it for a minute before picking up your slice and carefully sticking it in your mouth. You bite down, chew, and swallow. _Whoa, it's actually really good_. You hungrily eat the rest of it. It's gone in a matter of seconds. Dave is staring at you, mouth slightly open.

"What the fuck are you looking at?"

"Did... Did you even chew that, dude?" His pizza is only half gone, held up to his face.

"Of course I did, don't be ridiculous. It was just really good." You cross your arms, returning his stare.

"Whatever, man. You're pretty damn weird." He shrugs and continues eating his pizza.

"At least I don't wear sunglasses inside like a tool." You retort. The silence that follows this remark tells you that it was probably not the best thing to say to someone you're trying to befriend.

He finishes his food and checks his watch. "Fuck. Gotta go. Talk to you later, Vantas." He stands. You say that's ok, goodbye. And then you are alone at a booth in a pizza place, feeling pretty fucking sad. Again.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

That asshole made you pay for lunch anyways. He just took off. Jerk. You suppose it's fine. You are sort of in debt to him, after all. You suffer through the rest of the day, longing for the moment Rose arrives and takes over for the night. You've found a new book to read. When she enters the store, you are very engrossed in it.

"Karkat, you can go home now." She says, snapping you out of the fantasy world.

You look up at her, blinking in confusion. Then you glance over at the clock. She's half an hour early. When you state this, she shrugs. "I didn't exactly have anything better to do. We could talk for a while, if you don't feel inclined to go begin your daily drinking early."

"Shut the hell up. I'm fine."

"No one said anything about your state of well-being. Which causes me to consider the fact that you are not actually fine." There is genuine concern in her voice. You've always kept emotions to yourself, aside from anger. She's pushed you to open up before. You've known her for a sweep and a half, and you were there through the duration of her drunken arrivals.

"Your cousin, Dave Strider," you start, your eyes meeting hers. "Is he always such an insufferable asshole?"

"Dave? He can be an ass, I suppose. He shows emotions even less than you do, and almost everything that comes out of his mouth is sarcastic. Or 'ironic.' Why do you ask? Did you meet him today?"

You aren't too keen on explaining the circumstances of the previous night to Rose, so you tell her that you did in fact only meet him today, and that he came off as kind of a douchebag. "Was it hate at first sight?" She asks mockingly.

"No! Fuck you." You take this as a good time to get out. "Humans can't even begin to comprehend all four quadrants. No way in hell would I be _black_ for anyone of your species." You growl.

"Sounds like someone has a hate crush." She teases, poking your arm. You do not laugh, or even smile. You certainly do not feel like that towards him. You just hiss the word "no" at her and dump the tip jar into a plastic bag. "See you in the morning, Karkat." She says, waving at you ask you leave. You only grunt.

You are in no hurry to get back to your ratty apartment. As you slowly walk along, you scan your surroundings. The city itself is rather pristine; there are only a few grungy places. Despite the hemospectrum not really mattering on Earth, there is still prejudice in troll establishments, and humans are favored over trolls. Given the fact you are already the lowest of the low in Alternian society, you have had many issues adjusting to Earth life. Obviously there are humans who adore the trolls - such as the bookstore owner, who was happy to give you a job. You feel more welcome here than your own planet, even though your conditions of living are terrible and you don't know many people. At least you can leave your home here and not be (as) worried about getting culled. Sure, Alternia kicked ass, but on Earth you are free.

You keep your head down when walking through the rougher parts of the city. You have no idea where you're going. There's twelve hours to kill. Normally you'd be on your way to the bar, but quite honestly you're scared to do so. Strider probably wouldn't be there to save your ass, and even if he was, you don't think you want to be around him any more for the day.

You end up getting some orange soda from a vending machine. The sugar will at least make things seem happy, if not numb any pain there may be. Then, you wander around in the dark for a while. You feel pretty ok. Somehow you wind up in a park. You climb up a tree and get comfortable, taking a sip of your soda. It bubbles over your tongue and the sugar feels amazing. You wish alcohol came from vending machines too. Then you realize you might actually have a problem because of said wish. Then you realize you don't care. _That's probably bad_, you think. _Who gives a shit? You do, kind of. Do you really? You're too addicted to the sensations. Again, who gives a shit?__  
_  
You continue to argue with yourself until you have drunk so much orange soda that your thoughts become fuzzy. You slump in the tree, staring at the dark sky above you. There's so much light pollution, you can barely even see the moon. But you can see it a little. It's full and bright white. You think briefly of the moons on Alternia, and you even miss them in that second. You wonder how your life would have progressed if you had just stayed there. You imagine your dream of becoming a Threshecutioner would not have come true, considering you're still really tiny and almost done growing. You probably would have gotten murdered by someone higher on the hemospectrum by now, to be brutally honest with yourself.

You sigh and, forgetting you're in a tree, roll over. You fall out of the tree.

"Agh! Shit." You groan, cursing as you push yourself up and stand. _Idiot_. Deciding it's time to go home, you stumble through the darkness and back onto the main road. You retrace your steps, stopping at the vending machine for one more bottle - for later - and eventually you're on the floor again. It is here where you pass out with half a bottle of orange soda in your hand.

* * *

There it is again. That goddamn noise. You follow your routine, only to realize you're still fully clothed halfway through your shower. Things are not looking up for the day. You grab your husktop on the way out today, along with a jacket. You see no sense in being cold again.

The shop is quiet as usual. Rose's head is resting on the desk. You prod her arm. "Rose. Hey. Get up." You say, continuously poking her.

She grunts and looks up at you, blinking. "Karkat, what are you doing here? It's one in the morning." She asks, sounding very confused. You tell her that it's almost ten and her eyes widen. "Ugh, great. I was only resting my eyes for a moment. I must have been more tired than I thought." You shrug, and she stands up, stretching. "You're hung-over again." She sniffs the air. "On orange soda, really?"

You probably should have used stronger soap and brushed your teeth this morning. "Yeah, whatever. Go to your classes." You say in attempt to deter the conversation from your problem.

She doesn't push this time, and leaves, patting you on the back as she goes past. You take your seat and open your husktop. Trollian is blinking, and you feel your heart jump a little.

- turntechGodhead began pestering carcinoGeneticist at 15:22 -

TG: sup karkat its dave  
TG: figured id just message you as soon as i got to my computer  
TG: id probably lose this fucking piece of paper otherwise  
TG: so yeah hi and bye for now

- turntechGodhead ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist at 15:26 -

- turntechGodhead began pestering carcinoGeneticist at 21:13 -

TG: im going to that bar now  
TG: if i see you there ill be disappointed in you  
TG: then again if you arent there ill be wondering why not  
TG: just dont die ok bro  
TG: talk to you whenever

- turntechGodhead ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist at 20:17 -

You stare at the red text on your screen for a moment. He actually said stuff to you. You weren't there to reply but still, you feel... wanted. You decide now is as good a time as ever to say something back.

- carcinoGeneticist began trolling turntechGodhead at 10:12 -

CG: HEY, STRIDER.  
CG: THANKS FOR STICKING ME WITH THE BILL YESTERDAY.  
TG: haha sorry man i had to get going  
TG: why are you talking in caps are you really that angry  
CG: NO. THIS IS JUST HOW I TYPE. I'M NOT THAT MAD. YOU DID KINDA SAVE MY ASS THE OTHER DAY.  
TG: damn straight i did  
TG: like a fucking superhero  
TG: truly i am the best  
CG: YEAH, YEAH, HAIL THE STRIDER. DON'T LET THAT GET TO YOUR HEAD. I'M NOT GOING TO BE IN DEBT TO YOU FOR ETERNITY.  
TG: dont worry i know that  
TG: why would i even want you in my debt like really  
TG: im not gonna be all like  
TG: hell yes this guy owes me shit im gonna make him my slave  
TG: unless youre into that i dont know your life  
CG: WHAT. NO.  
CG: LISTEN. I'M MESSAGING YOU RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I THINK WE SHOULD. UH. HANG OUT OR WHATEVER.  
TG: yeah sure  
CG: OH. REALLY? GREAT.  
CG: I MEAN. THAT'S COOL I GUESS.  
TG: you dont have to hide your love for me karkat  
CG: SHUT UP, I BARELY EVEN KNOW YOU.  
TG: wow you replied quickly to that i was just kidding  
TG: this means something obviously  
CG: NO.  
TG: kidding again  
TG: ill swing by the bookstore when your shift ends ok  
TG: we can grab a drink or something  
CG: OK. I GET OFF AT TEN.  
TG: cool see you then  
CG: OK. BYE.

- carcinoGeneticist ceased trolling turntechGodhead at 10:30 -

You shut your husktop. There is a feeling inside you. Is it happiness? Probably. Sweeps and sweeps of being alone on Earth, and finally you have a friend. Well, nearly a friend. You don't think you'll be getting along with him incredibly well, but it's someone to talk to.

You almost smile. Almost. You aren't _that_ happy about this. Yet, you still feel slightly excited about the prospect of doing something with another individual. It's been so long.

The day drags on and on. Customers come and go, you read your book, the usual. You skip lunch, your stomach still feeling funny from all the orange soda. When it's finally dark and the streets are quiet, you find yourself growing impatient. Time should go faster, you think.

At ten o'clock exactly, both Dave and Rose enter the shop. Rose has a smug smile on her face. "Hey, Karkat. Look who's here for you." She says, indicating Dave with her thumb. He lifts his hand and waves lamely.

"Yeah, I know. Hi." You respond, standing and gathering your things.

"Is it a date?" She teases, drawing out the last word in a childish manner.

"Hell no." The blonde boy grunts, flicking his cousin in the back of the head. She just giggles and takes her seat behind the counter. "C'mon, Karkat. Let's go get drunk off our asses."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Rose calls after the two of you as you leave.

You walk beside the human as you head up the street. "Are we actually going to do that?" You ask. He just shrugs. "The bar," you continue, "was that guy there again?" Dave says no. "Good. We're going there then." He says ok, whatever.

The place is surprisingly empty. The two of you sit and order. It is uncomfortably quiet after this. You look the boy over. His clothes seem to be well-worn, and his hair is messy, giving him an almost vintage look. But his sunglasses, which he is STILL wearing for some reason, look perfect, as if they are brand new. You want to ask about them again, but you got such a negative response last time. You remain silent and turn your attention to the mirror behind the bar.

Good god, you are a mess. Your candy red eyes have bags under them, your hair is sticking up every which way, and your clothes are rumpled and messy. Is... Is your shirt on backwards? You don't see the Cancer sign on it. Pulling your arms into the sweater, you turn it around so the symbol is again on the front.

"Dude, what are you even doing?" Comes the voice of the man next to you.

You turn slightly red. "It was on the wrong way." You mumble. He gives you a concerned look, also mixed with confusion. At least, you think that's what it is. Fucking shades hide half the expression.

Your drinks finally arrive. "Bottoms up." He says, lifting his. You nod and answer, "Cheers." The two of you begin to drink. You think this is going to be one hell of a night.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **I am so sorry for not updating this for so long, and for this chapter being terrible. And short. Next chapter should be soon, and will hopefully not suck. Sorry!

* * *

Chapter Four

You are very drunk. Strider is nothing more than a red blur right now. His hand is on your shoulder, trying to keep you from falling off your stool. He's had the same amount of drinks as you, but he only seems slightly out of it. This is probably due to the fact you process alcohol and sugars differently than he does. You can barely see, but he's just feeling giddy.

You almost slip off again and he pushes you back up, laughing. "Dude I think it's about time we get you home." He says, getting up. He puts his hands on your shoulders as he helps you down. You swing an arm around his neck in order to stabilize yourself.

"Yeah," you drawl. "But my house is soooo shitty. Sometimes I think - Sometimes I would rather, uh, sleep on a fucking bench."

He laughs again as he places some cash on the counter. "You can come back to my place if you wanna. My bro probably won't care." He offers.

Under other circumstances, you would be suspicious. But you're drunk as fuck so you say sure. He keeps a decent hold on you as you make your way to his apartment building. Apparently he lives on the top floor. But it's ok because there's an elevator. You're both laughing about something dumb as you go up. You're hardly processing any of the conversation, and you probably sound like an idiot to him. He isn't showing any signs of caring about that, though.

He leads you into his apartment. You see lots of colorful blurs everywhere and hear him mutter something about puppets. He picks up the pace slightly and pushes you into his room, apologizing that you had to see that. You didn't see anything, though. You still can't see anything. He turns on a light, illuminating the scene.

His room is kind of a mess. The bed is unmade and the floor is littered with empty bottles and papers. A computer is glowing in the corner, and a set of turntables flashes red and blue on the other side of the room. He tells you to sit anywhere, then flops back on his bed. You place yourself on the floor, shoving some apple juice jugs out of the way as you lay down. He's talking about something, but you're already starting to fall asleep. By the time he asks you what you think, you're not conscious anymore.

* * *

A sudden groan from your stomach awakens you. You jump up, on full alert. Then you feel dizzy and stumble backwards, falling on a bed. You don't own a bed. Where are you? You grope the covers and find a leg. Rolling over, you look up and see a human attached to the leg.

"Strider," you say, more to yourself than to him. You remember all the drinking and the laughing. Your stomach twists again. "Strider!" You repeat, shaking him this time.

"The fuck do you want..." He groans, trying to push your hand off his leg.

"Bathroom. Where." You demand, a hand going up to cover your mouth.

"Down hall to the left. Light should be on... Watch out for puppets..." He mumbles, rolling over.

You don't have time to ask what the hell that means because you're about to vomit. You run down the hall and throw open the door on the left. A middle aged man is standing there, shirt off and a towel around his neck. He's too stunned to say anything when you push him out of the way and kneel by the toilet. Almost immediately, you begin retching. Curses mix in with the disgusting noises you are making as chunky orange stuff fills the bowl.

Once you cease the convulsing, you draw your knees to your chest and fall over, stifling a sob. The man, who has now put on a shirt, flushes the toilet and kneels beside you. "Uh, not to be rude or anythin', but who in the hell are you?" You mumble that you're Dave's friend and he sighs. "Kid's supposed to ask me... Listen, we've got a guest room and all. I'm not about to ask you to go walkin' home at four in the morning. C'mon now, get up." He assists you in standing, then leads you further down the hall and into a room. You aren't very tired anymore and your stomach is settling, but you say thank you anyways. You lay on top of the blankets, looking up at the ceiling. It's perfect. No cracks, no mold, no leaks. Just neat, white paint.

The Striders don't seem to be stirring anymore. The apartment is silent. You can't even hear noise from outside due to being so high up. You don't like it that much. You're not sure how long you lay there, but eventually you hear voices from outside.

"I swear to god, Dave, your ass is gonna be grounded next time." The older man is saying as you enter the kitchen. Dave is sitting at a table, shaded eyes pointed at his hands. The man is also wearing sunglasses. _What is with these people?_

They both look up at you when you step in, causing you to freeze. Your eyes flit back and forth between the two Striders. You're kind of annoyed that you can't tell if they're actually looking at you or if their heads are just pointed in your direction. "Introduce me to your friend, Dave." The man says, a tinge of irritation in his voice.

"Bro this is Karkat, Karkat this is Bro." Dave grumbles quickly. He puts his head in his hands after, staring down at the toast on his plate.

"Uh. Hello." You finally say, waving a little. Your voice comes out raspy, and your throat hurts a lot. The older man tells you to take a seat, asking if you'd like anything. You say water would be pretty great. A glass of water appears in front of you seconds later, and you drink it dangerously fast. You realize they're both looking at you. You make a mental note to stop eating and drinking so fast, then set down the cup. You fold your hands in your lap and look back at them.

"So how did y'all meet?" The man called Bro questions as he takes a seat.

Before you even open your mouth, Dave is talking. "He works at the same bookshop Rose does. Fucking rude cashier. We ended up talking though and he likes the same kind of books as me."

"I see." Bro sounds skeptical. "So you just invited him to sleepover? Because, why the hell not? I've never even heard you mention him before." He looks at you. "Not that you don't seem trustworthy or nothin', ain't your fault you ended up here. I just like to know what's goin' on in my own damn house."

Dave mumbles that he's sorry again. Bro then asks you if you're feeling any better, since you threw up and all. Dave snorts. "Yeah, my pain is just so god damn hilarious, isn't it, Strider?" You growl. He says yeah, kinda. "I'm fine now though, thank you for asking." You say sincerely. "Stomach issues."

"Hangover?" Bro asks with a laugh. You force a half-smile and say no, also laughing shortly. He glances at the clock above the fridge, swears, and is gone. You blink at his empty chair.

"Yeah we do that sometimes." Dave says, answering your unasked question. "Ninjas."

"Wow, just when I thought you couldn't get any more fucking ridiculous." You respond. He just shrugs.

Bro appears back in the room, dressed up and keys in hand. He gives Dave a hug, which the younger blonde immediately worms out of. "See you later, little man." He says with a tint of sadness in his words. Then he's gone again.

"So you had a bit too much to drink, eh?" asks Dave, nudging you with his elbow.

You smack his arm. "Yeah, thanks to you. I've been drunk before but never beyond the point of coherent thought process. Were you that determined to take me home? It would have been more polite to just ask."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "You're the one that said you didn't wanna go to your place, Karkat. It's not like anythin' happened, anyways. You passed out almost as soon as we got to my room. I think I went shortly after."

"Good." You say. Then you ask, "Why did you lie to your brother?"

"He knows jack shit about me, ok. He's overprotective and overbearing literally all the time. He kicks my ass on a regular basis. Don't need to give him reasons to worry, or kick my ass more." He explains. You can tell he feels incredibly guilty, and there's probably more to this than you think. So you just say oh. "Yeah. We should do this again sometime. Except maybe I'll regulate your alcohol consumption for you."

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

You leave Dave's place not too much later, knowing you're going to have to suffer through work soon. You feel like absolute shit, and you curse Strider for allowing you to drink so much. Because, it's obviously his fault. Not like you have self control or anything.

As you stand in your shower, the hot, sulfur-scented water pouring over you, you try desperately to remember details of the previous night. You scrub the sticky sweat off your gray skin, wondering if it got there from being nervous. You'd never gone out for drinks with another individual before, let alone someone you could call a friend. You really hope you didn't do something incredibly dumb.

You don't think you should even care, but somehow embarrassing yourself in front of Strider seems like the worst thing that could happen. You've barely known him a week but you can tell he is a judgmental asshole. Laughing at the fact you threw up. It's a normal bodily function, dammit. Especially for a body that consumed far too much sugar and alcohol.

Your stomach hurts just thinking about it. _None of that tonight_, you decide. You're probably going to drink something anyways, just to calm yourself down before passing out on the floor yet again. You really need to see a professional about this. Eventually. For now, you're going to go to work and drag through the day. Hopefully Dave will talk to you again soon.


End file.
